Monday, May 22, 2006

Being Sylvia Plath

and you thought i was kidding
spiraling deeper into the cave of no return
i am stuck in the misty mold of despair
and you look at me from your tainted glass window
all high and mighty and superior
and here i am
ten feet below you
doing the dirty work that will never noticed
toiling in the gravel of mindless chores that will never be finished
and how can you think i am happy?

you are the god
who deserves the comfort of fluffy down pillows
but i am the goddess who deserves so much better
than an arrogant god who forgets the dues he must pay his bride

and maybe I am afraid that someday I will be hopeless enough to stick my head into the oven and be forgotten by the life that I toiled for

defeated by my demons

destroyed by my spirit

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